Snape's Crush
by Orrick
Summary: Snape has a forbidden crush without knowing if it could ever be returned.


"That's the wrong potion, Mr. _2."

Axle dropped his stirrer and dragon scales in the potion his was trying to brew at the sound of the cold, nasally voice coming from a few paces to his right. He turned slightly, shivering at the sight of the greasy Potions Master in front of him. Snape had a glare that could kill small bunnies, and Axle had the uncontrollable urge to piss his pants.

"Are you deaf, Mr. _2? Can you not understand what I'm saying?" Snape sneered, ignoring the Slytherins laughing behind him. They were shaking in their seats from laughter, some pointing meanly at the Gryffindor Snape was currently trying to behead.

"No, Professor, I…" Axle squeaked out, pulling his stirrer out of his potion and making a feeble attempt to correct it. "I didn't know…"

"Why, do tell, did you not know?" Snape asked him with mock curiosity, raising his hand out in front of him and waving it around. "The potion and its instructions were written quite plainly on the board. Is your eyesight damaged along with your ability to hear?"

Sassy pushed Axle down roughly, blocking him from the Potions teacher's ridicule. "Why can't you ever stop talking?" She asked Snape, folding her arms across her chest. The greasy git ignored her, instead leaning against a table and keeping his gaze on Axle.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, you dimwitted child." He hissed, turning away and walking to his desk where he promptly sat down and stirred a cup of tea.

Axle groaned, rubbing his head from where it collided with the floor. "Sassy, I appreciate the effort, but did you really have to push me down? Luna will be upset I ruined my handsome face…"

"Just shut up, Axle." Sassy hissed, sitting back down at her seat. She rubbed her temples, glaring at the raven-haired teacher at the front of the classroom. "You're not the only one with a problem with him…"

* * *

><p>Snape rubbed his hand over his face tiredly as he entered his chambers for the night. He had some second years' essays to grade, and he wasn't looking forward to blatant spelling errors and fabricated 'facts.' If anything he just wanted to brush his teeth and go to bed. But was that possible? No. Apparently if you're a professor you have responsibilities.<p>

"I'm going to trace all of my problems back to Dumbledore." Snape growled, locking the door behind him and putting a few protection spells on it because he was paranoid. For some odd reason the confrontation with Mr. _2 earlier that day kept flashing in Snape's mind, and he could feel his headache creeping across more of his skull with each memory. He didn't even like the boy; the Gryffindor was rude and ignorant, and Snape had a silent resentment because he thought the boy kept his hair long just to mock him.

Truth be told he wasn't that tired and he just wanted to avoid grading papers. He sat down on a small wooden chair next to a small wooden table, pulling out the second years' essays as well as a few other papers. Snape realized he had not yet graded the fifth years' reports on modern potion brewing, and, deciding that would be much more interesting, scattered the essays across his table. His hand instinctively reached for one in particular.

_Potions Are Hard_

_By Axle_2_

_I know I'm not very good at potions because Snape(You) is always telling me I'm not. For the first few weeks I practiced everyday so I could get better but it didn't work and I've come to the conclusion that I just suck and there's nothing anyone can do about it. You might say that's wrong, but it's not. I've tried everything but tutor with Snape(You) but I'd never do that because he'd rip me in half if I suggested it._

_When I screwed up my first potion Snape(You) yelled at me for a good thirty minutes; I think you were saying something about me being a dunderhead or something like that. I stopped paying attention after ten minutes or so. I just stared at some of the things that Snape(You) have in jars lining the whole classroom._

_I'm never going to get a job doing anything with potions because I'd probably end up killing something. Leopard once dared me to brew a poison to give to Snape(You) but I said no because it'd be my luck and it'd turn out to help Snape(You). I sometimes feel that_

Snape stopped reading, placing the essay down on his table and closing his eyes, thinking of the possibilities. He could tutor the boy, couldn't he? Would it be so bad?

Snape didn't know what sparked this sudden interest in Axle_2, but he knew one thing for sure.

It wasn't good.

* * *

><p>Snape felt like a schoolgirl as he walked up to Axle, putting on his cold demeanor before he rounded the corner. The boy was sitting on a bench talking to the K-Brooks kid, who was holding a notebook and chuckling. At the sight of the Potions Professor he hurriedly stuffed the notebook in his bag, whistling softly and gazing into the distance. Any other day Snape would demand to see the picture, but today he was in a distracted mood. "Mr. K-Brooks," He drawled, and Leif looked up sharply like he only just noticed the professor. "Kindly leave my presence as I have an issue to discuss with Mr. _2 that is not your concern." Leif raised his eyebrows and edged away, clutching his bag to his chest like it contained the ancient gold of an ancient warlock.<p>

Axle scrunched his eyebrows, looking mildly afraid as he looked up at Snape. Snape coughed, avoiding eye contact, and mumbled, "I read your essay, and I would like to inform you that you could indeed take tutoring lessons from me, if you wished to do so."

"Uh…" Axle trailed off, not sure what to say. He needed the extra time, but he was scared shitless of this man. "I guess… but uh… the Snow Ball is next week and uh…"

Snape rolled his eyes at the sound of the ball Dumbledore so kindly made up. "The tutoring will not interfere with that… event."

"Okay!" Axle said with mock excitement, not wanting to refuse Snape's offer from fear.

"My office, tonight at seven."

Something about the way he said "tonight" made Axle's fear increase.

* * *

><p>"You're late."<p>

"It's 7:05!"

"Does that statement contradict what I previously said?"

Snape sat in his desk, pretending to grade a paper with his red quill. Axle had knocked on the door at 7:05, although he had been standing behind it since 6:50, thinking about whether or not he should just drop everything and run. Snape would be lying if he said he wasn't aware Axle was standing there the whole time.

Snape was in a particularly bad mood because he realized that afternoon what exactly he was feeling for the boy. It was the exact same feeling he felt when Lily laughed, when Lily clutched his hand as they looked at the Shrieking Shack, when Lily told him that he was her best friend in the entire school.

It was _attraction_.

And the events that night would either be really good or really bad.


End file.
